Is This Normal?
by lesliemartiz45
Summary: My friend is so cruel! She wrote a story about how some 13 year olds were abused!   Jason and his friends go back to when they were 13 year olds, when their step parents or their parents abused them. It's very sad, and rated T for some sad violence.


You Call This Normal? I'm… different…

Chapter 1. Jason Age 13

Jason silently shrank back as Ms. Purdue threw the vase at him. It broke with a "clash" and the vase shattered to pieces by his feet.

"You spoiled, idiotic, horrible child!" Ms. Purdue screamed, coming closer and slapping him on the face.

Jason stood there, trying to ignore the stinging from the glass in his ankle.

"Stealing the keys from my drawer, unlocking the safe, taking the toys back to the others-"

Ms. Purdue exploded and reached for another vase. She threw it harder and it hit the door right when Jason ducked.

"What were you thinking? What is wrong with you?" Ms. Purdue screamed.

Jason tried not to flinch from the feel of blood coming from his legs and arms.

"What you do to them," he began, reaching down to take a piece of glass out of his leg. "They don't deserve it. They're just orphans trying to fit in. You constantly hurt them, and I don't even think they deserve it!"

Ms. Purdue considered this for a moment. She turned to stare at Jason. She noticed the necklace he wore around his neck. It was black with a silver moon. She reached for it, and Jason backed away.

"Don't touch that," he said quietly, backing away to the door.

Ms. Purdue laughed. She grabbed Jason's hair and pulled it, so Jason was pulled towards her. She let go and then pushed Jason into the door. He tried not to scream out in pain as he fell to the ground. Glass and blood were splattered in his legs.

His blonde hair now looked like it had red highlights. Jason sniffled and began to get up when Ms. Purdue stopped him.

"You are a disgrace. If you are looking to be heroic, don't. Look at you. You're not even as strong as I am. You and your pathetic sisters-"

Jason had had enough. He screamed and shot his hand toward her, making her be pushed back into the closet. He shrieked.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" he said, kicking the door open and running to his room.

The other children were waiting there, some just asleep. When they saw him, they screamed and ran to him.

"Jason, you're bloody," Leslie said quietly. She was seven and she usually stated the obvious.

Silena ran to him, crying, and apologizing.

"If I hadn't stolen the keys, you would have never have-"

"Relax, Sil, it's okay," he tried to reassure her.

"No, it's not! It's not! I'm sorry, I didn't know she would blame you!" Silena fell to the floor and started to cry hysterically.

Jason walked over to her, lifted her chin, and wiped her tears on his hands. He hugged her, and Leslie hugged them both.

"I bet it's time to go to sleep, you guys," Jason said to the others.

Everyone left but Emma Marine. She walked over to Jason. She kneeled down like Silena was. She looked into his eyes and cleared the blood on his cheek.

"It's a brave thing you did," she whispered.

Jason smiled weakly. He was about to blush when Emma lunged at him, kissing him on his bloody lips. She put his hands around his neck and hugged him. She let go and got up, and walked back to her bed.

Leslie laughed.

Jason blushed and looked like a red tomato. He picked Leslie up and laid her on her bed. He sat on the bed for a second, and then kissed her forehead. He pulled the covers over and went to Silena. She was already asleep, on the floor ironically. He laughed and picked her up, then set her on her bed. He kissed her forehead and pulled the covers up. He went to his own bed, looked at everyone else who were asleep, and shut the light off.

Chapter 2. Draco Age 13

Draco sighed as he bent down to pick up the remaining plates from the dining room. He picked up the shattered glass from his father throwing it at him. He went to the kitchen and began to wash the dishes.

"Dracatho!" his father yelled.

Draco accidentally dropped a plate and it broke.

"My name is Draco-" Draco murmured.

"I know what your name is, and I don't give a damn. Pick that plate up, or I'll throw you into the streets and let the ghosts devour you!"

Draco began picking the pieces of the plate up. He let his left hand stay on some of the glass as he picked it up with his right. His father snickered.

"Now, what if…"

His father began to slowly step on Draco's left hand. Draco screamed in pain. He dropped the glass shards in his right hand. The glass was sinking deeper into his hand.

"I will have no other spilling dishes, understand?" his father said coolly.

Draco nodded, trying to hold back the tears.

"I SAID UNDERSTAND?" his father stepped even harder.

Draco yelled.

"Y-y-yes! I understand, GET OFF OF MY HAND!" he screamed.

His father stepped off of his son's hand and punched him in the face. Draco howled and fell back.

"No more yelling at me, either. Now get back to work!" his father commanded, walking away.

Draco's hand was oozing blood as the glass shards were piercing his skin. He cursed and then said something. His hand mended and the glass fell. His hand was still bloody but it looked okay.

As for his face, it was bruised and bleeding. He began to cry, silently. He picked up the remaining glass and threw it in the garbage. He ran to his room, and slammed the door. He locked it, and jumped into his bed.

There was one bright side. Draco planned to run away the next day, and that's when he ran into his lifelong crush, Silena Martiz.

Chapter 3. Emma Age 13

"I thought we had a talk about this, Emma," her stepfather said quietly. "There were to be no mistakes."

Emma looked up. Her hair was in her face, and blood stained her hands. Her lip dropped little drops of blood.

"Yes John," she whispered. She picked up the brush and dipped it in the black ink. She stroked it carefully.

The stepfather grabbed the brush and snapped it in half. Emma closed her eyes.

"I'm not a good artist," she said to him.

The stepfather spat at her.

"I realize that. No wonder your father is dead. He probably wanted to die so he could get away from you."

"You killed my dad."

The stepfather punched Emma in the face. She fell back against paintbrushes and knocked everything down. She started to silently cry.

"I never want you to say those words again."

He turned and left the room. Emma watched as he slammed the door and locked it. She cried for at least ten minutes, then sniffled and began to pick the art brushes up. Paint was splattered everywhere. The painting! She looked up to see a masterpiece. The paint that she had effortlessly splattered on the canvas had arranged into a beautiful picture. She didn't know she had _that _much talent.

She grinned and held up her hand. It shrank the picture and she put it in her pocket. She pulled another canvas out of a box and started to paint something else. She then heard a scream. Her mom!

"Mom!" she screamed, running to the door. "Mom!"

She pounded on the door. It was no use. It was locked. All Emma could do was listen to her mother being beaten. She cried and cried until she heard silence. Thousands of thoughts flew into her head. _Was her mother dead? Had he finally killed her? _

Her mother came into the room, then hugged her daughter.

"Goodnight Emmy," she whispered, then left the room. Emma heard her stepfather lock the door.

"F&*% you," Emma whispered.

She went over to her bed and fell asleep crying. Her nose was still bleeding and her head was still throbbing, but she was happy that her mother was alive. She finally went to sleep, a small small on her lips.

**The bright side: Emma's stepfather gives her away to an orphanage-again, where she reunites with Jason Martiz and his family and his friends. **


End file.
